Shadow Dagger Ch. 20

"Speak."

His sentences were shorter than ever, but it was better than nothing. "I just wanted to see how you're doing. Do you need anything?"

Marcus blinked. He looked up at her and cocked his head sideways, as though he had no idea who or what she was. "When is this?"

The question sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't know why, but Marcus was really scaring her right now. "When is this? Do you mean what day?"

He shook his head. He still regarded her with curiosity. "Is it time to attack the gate yet? Have I already done that?"

Sophina breathed out slowly and loosened the grip on her sword.

That poor man, he suffers for us. I wish this could be over already. I wish he could find peace.

Marcus was starting to resemble the beggar he once was when Sophina first met him. His long brown hair was untidy and he had almost a month's worth of beard on his handsome face. His eyes, once as calm and blue as the ocean, were almost colorless and devoid of life.

"No, Marcus, we haven't attacked the gate yet. Are you--are you still okay with that plan? Will you still help us?"

He seemed to have lost interest in her. His eyes slowly glanced away, as though bored. He looked around the small bedroom with a strange smile on his face.

"Not much longer now," he whispered.

"No, not much longer. Peron should be giving the signal any day now." Sophina tried to sound as cheerful as she could.

Marcus' eyes swiveled back toward her. She felt her heart stutter in her chest. His movements were eerie, as though he wasn't used to moving his body. She tensed, ready at any sign to whip out her sword and defend herself.

Marcus, however, just smiled that strange smile. "You worry too much. Soon, there will be nothing to worry about. The world will go back to the way it was meant to be."

The words sounded comforting, but they only served to frighten Sophina more.

The way he said them...as though they have a different meaning.

"So...you'll be ready when the time comes?" Sophina asked the question as she slowly backed towards the door. She wanted nothing more than to get out of the room.

"Will you?" he asked her, the strange smile still on his lips.

Sophina gasped as she bumped into the wall. She cursed quietly for acting like such a coward, but that didn't stop her from hurriedly opening the door.

"Where's Jon?"

Sophina paused. Marcus' voice sounded almost normal. She looked back at him. Her looked at her intently. She could see sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes...his eyes were a soft blue. Did his eyes really change colors?

"I don't know," she admitted. She rested her head against the doorframe and sighed. "I don't know."

"He needs to hurry," Marcus said, his voice urgent.

"Yes...he does." Sophina never agreed with anything more in her life. She needed Jon; she needed her mentor. She was so very tired. She couldn't last much longer.

She shook her head against the doorframe as her mind raced. Where was Jon? What was taking him so long? Her thoughts were interrupted as she realized that she was staring at a stain on the floor, right by the doorframe. It looked to be a large, brown stain.

Her gaze rose up the wall, following the trail of the stain. Her gaze alighted on the tea cup resting on the edge of the table next to the door.

Tea cup? What is...wait. Isn't this--

A loud, grinding noise snapped her out of her thoughts. She knew that noise; it was the sound the false wall made when it slid across, revealing the door to Jon's hideout.

Sophina unsheathed her sword in one fluid movement and crouched into a fighting stance. "Marcus, somebody's coming."

She glanced at him. He was currently studying the wall across from him. His eyes were almost colorless once again. Cursing, Sophina moved out into the hallway. She calmed her breathing and fell into her warrior trance. She took silent steps toward the living room.

Her hand was slick with sweat but the leather on the handle of her sword absorbed it. She clenched her hand repeatedly to dry it. The leather squeaked quietly.

She stopped by the edge of the doorway leading into the living room. She could hear footsteps coming down the steps. Had somebody discovered this hideout? How? Not even their so-called allies knew about this place.

Raynolt must have betrayed us! He probably followed me one night. I knew I shouldn't have trusted him!

Sophina knelt on the ground. She laid her sword on the ground and reached down to her boot and removed the dagger hidden there. She hefted the blade in her hand and cocked her arm back.

The figure stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The fireplace was the only source of light in the living room. All Sophina could see was a dark shadow. But she knew generally where the heart would be.

She tensed her arm and took one more moment to gauge the distance.

"Hello? Sophina? Marcus?"

Sophina gasped as she let fly the dagger. She knew that voice. "No!"

Her hand twisted at the last moment. She prayed with all of her heart that it was enough.

There came a clang of metal against stone and then a startled curse. "What in the nine hells?"

"Ashford!"

Sophina stumbled across the living room, blinded by tears. She barely noticed a very startled looking Ashford before she threw her arms around him.

She laughed and cried and squeezed him tight. He was telling her something but she couldn't hear him. She didn't care. Her heart was lighter than it had been in ages.

"By the God, Sophina, calm down! I've just ridden three straight weeks! Give me a moment, okay? Shh, it's okay. It's me. It's me. Calm down. I'm here."

Sophina didn't want to let him go. In the end, she had to remind herself that she was a fierce warrior, not some weak-kneed princess. She stepped back and wiped her arm across her face.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Ashford seized her shoulders with his hands and squeezed. She looked up into his smiling face and laughed. He laughed with her.

"The God knows how I've missed you! If I wasn't such a powerful, dashing warrior, I might cry with you."

She hiccupped and slapped his chest. "You always did have an inflated opinion of yourself, Ashford," she said, mockingly.

"Dry you eyes and let me take a look at you," Ashford said happily. He stepped back and rubbed his chin.

"I must look like a sight," Sophina mumbled, embarrassed.

Ashford laughed. "If by that you mean even more beautiful, then yes, you are a sight. I see you're still letting your hair grow. At least it's blonde again."

Sophina felt her hair self-consciously. It was almost down to her shoulders now. She hadn't had hair this long since she left her family's farm.

"I just kept it short because it was more practical, you know, as a soldier."

Ashford nodded. "I like it. It suits you."

She smiled despite herself. "What else do you see?" she teased him.

His smile suddenly vanished. "I see how tired you are," he said somberly. "You look thinner, like you've been stretched out past your breaking point."

She sighed. "I guess we have to trade stories now, huh?"

Ashford nodded. "Let's sit down."

They walked over to the chairs by the fire and settled in slowly. Ashford poured them both glasses of wine from the pitcher on the table. He handed Sophina her glass and then slumped back in his chair.

"You look tired, too," she noted. His hair was longer now than it was when he left and he had a good growth of bread on his face. His clothes were covered in dust and grime. He really must have ridden three weeks straight.

"You have no idea," he sighed. "Sophina, what in the nine hells is going on? Why are there so many soldiers on the wall? I was fortunate to find a secluded spot where I could deactivate the runes and climb over. And then getting through the city took even more luck! Where did these soldiers come from?"

"I don't even know where to begin," Sophina said, shaking her head. "I--wait, where's Jon?" she asked suddenly. She had been so happy to see Ashford that she didn't realize Jon wasn't with him. Sudden fear made her grip the arms of her chair hard.

"I guess I will go first," Ashford chuckled. "Jon made me ride ahead to get here in time." Sophina sighed in relief and relaxed her body.

Ashford, however, suddenly bolted upright in his seat. The wine in his glass slopped over the rim and splashed against his clothes. "Sophina, please tell me Evelyn hasn't given birth yet!"

"No, no!" she said hurriedly. "Not yet. At least, there hasn't been any indication she has. We have spies watching the palace at all times."

Ashford slumped back into his seat and laughed weakly. "Thank the God."

"She's suppose to give birth any day now, right?"

"That's what Jon says," Ashford said, his eyes still closed. "He said these pregnancies only take three months. God, has it already been three months? So much has happened."

"Same here," Sophina whispered. "But I believe you said you will go first."

"We did it, Sophina. Jon united the tribes and forced a meeting with the goddess. That part went pretty smoothly."

"Then what took you two so long?" she burst out, the question unable to stay quiet in her mind.

"I said it went smoothly, not easy," Ashford admonished her. "We had to fight nearly every tribe. And then there was the sheer size of the desert. It's not easy moving so many people across such a distance."

"So Jon united all the tribes? He met the goddess?" Sophina asked eagerly.

"Yeah," Ashford said slowly. "Listen, Sophina, this goddess was more than we thought she was. She wasn't some keeper of Jocelyn's journal; shewasJocelyn."

Sophina blinked and stared at Ashford uncomprehendingly. "Wait--what? She was Jocelyn? But--but that's impossible!"

"That's what I thought. But Jon didn't kill her, remember?" Ashford reminded her.

Sophina sat back in her chair. It was almost unbelievable. She remembered the story Jon told them. He hadn't killed her; he only banished her.

"By the God," she whispered, shaking her head. "What happened?"

"She was powerful, Sophina," Ashford said quietly. He was staring intently into the fireplace, as though still witnessing that moment. "More powerful than Jon. She could have easily killed us."

"More powerful than Jon? But...how did you manage to get out of there?"

"In the end, her pride was her undoing. She toyed with us, toyed with Jon. She wanted him to join her." Ashford snorted. "As if Jon would suddenly decide to do that. So she decided to kill us. But she hadn't counted on one thing..."

"What?" Sophina demanded, when Ashford lapsed into silence.

Ashford smiled teasingly at her. Sophina swatted him across the arm and he laughed. "Okay, okay. It was Jon's Shadow Dagger. Sophina, I killed her with the Shadow Dagger!"

"But nobody but a Magi Victus can touch one!" Sophina yelped. Was he still teasing her?

"What better way to keep a Magi from trying to take one? It was just a lie. Jon gave me his dagger before we met her and she turned her back on me. So I stabbed her."

"Quite a story," Sophina breathed. She knew that was a complete understatement. She had never heard a more unbelievable story in all her life. "But...where's Jon?"

Ashford put his glass of wine down on the table and leaned toward Sophina. "He sent me ahead because he's bringing all the horsemen he can. And he wanted me to warn you. Sophina, we know now what Reynar's planning to do."

Sophina sat in stunned silence as Ashford finished his tale.

***

Raynolt grimaced as an arrow dissolved against his protection spell.Maybe I let my impatience get the better of me, he thought, as another arrow came streaking at him.

Restlessness had overcome him. The meetings down in the sewer had become pointless. There was nothing they could do until Peron returned with his men. Not even the sudden appearance of Ashford Caulston was enough to satisfy him.

That man was too smug for an inferior, Raynolt thought, as he weaved a spell of lightning and shot it at the archer. The archer ducked behind the corner of a building. The lightning bolt shatter the stone where his face was at a moment before.

Ashford Caulston had taken it upon himself to become their de facto leader. Sophina Crews looked more than happy to hand the reigns to him. After learning about their current situation, Ashford didn't have any worthwhile information to add. Everything hinged on that damn Raves barbarian.

Still, he was hiding something, Raynolt felt. Ashford and Sophina probably didn't think he noticed the subtle looks they would cast each other when the subject of Reynar came up. If Raynolt was a gambling man, he would gamble that Ashford knew what Reynar was up to.

So, after another pointless week of planning and bickering, Raynolt decided to accompany one of the patrols. He needed a good fight to get the frustration out of his system. Their attempts at thinning Reynar's numbers were pathetic, but at least some people were actually doing something.

The archer peaked around the corner again and shot another arrow. Why did the idiot insist on focusing on him? He knew his arrows couldn't do anything against his protection spell.

Unfortunately, Raynolt's unit was too busy fighting a host of other soldiers. He joined a group of ten of Peron's men. They were what was left of the force he had with him in the city.

He brought no other Magi with him, as he was more than enough for simple soldiers. However, he couldn't cast a spell without the possibility of hitting his own men. He considered it for a moment anyways but decided he still needed an escort back, just in case.

He shot another bolt of lightning at the archer. Another large section of the building was blasted away. Bored, Raynolt scanned the rest of the fight, looking for stragglers.

Suddenly, without warning, the opposing soldiers broke away from the fighting and sprinted into nearby alleys. Stupefied, Raynolt's men looked back at him.

They never saw the gigantic fireball that incinerated them. Raynolt gasped and hurriedly called up his 10th protection spell. He had been maintaining a 3rd Tier spell because it required very little energy.

The runes covered his body at the last possible moment. The gigantic fireball engulfed him and flew past him, exploding against the wall of a nearby building.

Raynolt coughed out the smoke in his lungs and wiped his stinging eyes. He never did learn how to keep smoke away from him. He looked up and prepared a 10th Tier spell that would shoot out several arrows of fire.

Three Magi materialized out of the shadows of a nearby alleyway. They stepped through the ash that had been Peron's men without a glance. Raynolt knew all three of those Magi. Two were unimportant 7th Tier Magi.

The last one was Lenard.

"You!" Raynolt gasped.

Lenard smiled and the other two Magi chuckled. "Seems like it's our lucky day," one of the 7th Tier Magi said. Raynolt couldn't place his name at the moment.

"The great Raynolt Teryus," the other one sneered. "How I wished I would be in the group that captured you."

Lenard said nothing. Raynolt glared at him. "If Reynar wanted me captured, he shouldn't have sent weaklings like you."

The Magi who had spoken first growled. He brushed the dark hair out of his eyes and gave Raynolt his best glare. "Weaklings that nearly killed you, Raynolt. Remember that."

"Nearly," Raynolt sneered. "Nearly counts for nothing in the game of life. Rememberthat, if you live long enough."

The other 7th Tier Magi, a short man with gray hair, held up his hand. "Enough of this posturing. Lenard, as the highest ranking member here, the choice is yours. Dead or alive?"

"Oh, most certainly alive," Lenard said. The tall red-headed man glanced at his companions. "King Reynar would be greatly pleased if we brought this one in alive."

"Screw Reynar," the dark-haired Magi spat. "We should bring him to Grand Master Sura. She will give us the proper reward."

"Assuming, of course, that you can bring me in," Raynolt said calmly. Three against one weren't good odds but Lenard was only 8th Tier. He was confident he could take all three.

"Oh, I'm sure we can," Lenard said quietly. And then he winked at Raynolt.

Raynolt's jaw almost dropped. But he recovered himself in time to hide his surprise. "Then let's begin," Raynolt said.

He finished the arrows of flame spell in his mind and stuck out his hand. The other two Magi had been prepared. They already sent runes of binding at him. Raynolt understood why Reynar sent these Magi out; their binding spells were of the 10th Tier.

The two spells combined would have been enough to bypass his protection spell to bind him. But they didn't count on Lenard turning to them and casting two counter-protection spells. The two Magi gasped in surprise when their protection spells suddenly faded.

Raynolt's spell flashed on his palm. Several arrows of flame shot through each Magi repeatedly. Their bodies were hurled through the air and landed with a dull thud several yards away. Smoke slowly rose from the holes in their chests.

"Well played," Raynolt said. He bowed to Lenard in acknowledgment.

Lenard smiled. "I've been hoping to run into you for a long time now. Tonight was my lucky night."

"What happened that night at the Emporium?"

"Reynar's Magi found me and healed me. They assumed I took my wound fighting you. I...didn't correct them."

Raynolt laughed. "You were always very crafty, my dear Lenard."

"If you think that was crafty, wait until I tell you about my position with Reynar. He has taken me under his wing after my valiant attempt to stop you during the attack at the Emporium. I'm privy to some very important secrets."

"Is that right?" Raynolt mused. He motioned Lenard to follow him. "It wouldn't be good for you if another patrol wondered by and spotted us. Let's get back to the sewers before we're caught."

"The sewers?" Lenard asked. "That's where you've been hiding?"

Raynolt turned back toward Lenard. There was something strange in his voice. "Yes, but don't get me started on that. It's insulting, but what can--"

The world lurched beneath Raynolt's feet. It felt as though a giant stone had just smashed into his head. He stumbled to his knees and tried to orient himself. Another blow blasted his skull.

The stars were shining down at him in the clear night sky. They twinkled, as though winking mockingly at him. How he hated the stars.

A shadow loomed over him. He blinked. The shadow was blocking his view of the hated stars. "How rude," he mumbled.

"Thanks for everything, Raynolt," the shadow said, his voice painfully loud. Didn't he know that the stars had ears? He didn't need to shout. Raynolt's vision suddenly swam before his eyes.

It looked like runes were forming above him. But that wasn't right; the ancient language of creation couldn't suddenly appear in the air, could it? How could words and symbols materialize in thin air?

The language of God is in everything, a voice said in his head. He knew that voice.

"Master?" he asked. His tutor had been the first one to show Raynolt how to write in the air.

"I am now," the shadow said.

The runes whirled and settled into place. Raynolt knew what those runes represented; those were the words to form air in the shape of a mallet. But wasn't he protected by a 10th Tier protection spell?

The mallet of air rushed toward him and Raynolt knew only darkness without stars.

Good. I hate stars.

***

"How much longer?" Reynar asked.

Sereph looked down at his notes. "According to various medical journals, I would say she's due any time now. Are you sure you don't want a midwife to examine her?"

"No, I don't want a midwife to examine her!" Reynar roared. "I don't want another body on my hands!"